Unace kissed her sleeping son, all bundled in his woolen blankets, and looked over at Piro. 'Ready?'
For today's assault Unace wore the green cloak again, but this time she wore chain mail and carried her weapons.
'Ready,' Piro agreed, mouth dry, heart racing.
'Remember, if the fighting starts, don't stay by me, run and hide,' Unace warned. She held Piro's eyes. 'Promise me this, if I am killed run back here, rescue my son and take him to Rolencia. He can grow up as a stable hand in your castle. As long as he has a chance to grow up!'
Emotion closed Piro's throat. She could only nod.
It was enough for Unace, who put her hand on Piro's shoulder. 'Thank you. I am lucky to have met you and your brother.'
Piro managed to swallow.
Seagrass returned. 'We are ready, Unace.'
Piro walked the unistag out of the snow-cave into the crisp first light. It was a clear morning, so sharp and bright the air was cold enough to make her chest ache. She glanced up at Unace, who had taken her position on the unistag's back. It was hard to believe that this woman, who only moments before had been breastfeeding her infant son, could soon be dead. Everything was so sharp, so beautiful.
Is this what Byren and Lence experienced every time they led a raiding party, this amazing clarity of perception?
Then suddenly they were moving, with Piro trotting along beside the healer. Apart from Seagrass and Unace, no one knew who she was, or cared. Back in Rolencia there would have been explanations if a goatherd turned up in the royal party, but here, with the chaos of the camp and the excitement, she was overlooked.
Unace's people cheered as they passed. Piro thought the spar warriors looked very fine. Not as good as her father's honour guard, when they turned out for a special event, but good in a more ferocious way. She could sense their common purpose. The intensity of their feelings called to her Affinity.
She glanced quickly to Seagrass. If he had noticed anything he did not reveal it.
Down the steep zigzag path they strode. Someone had crept out early and shovelled the snow. Uneven cobbles filled the gaps between exposed rocks, that was about all there was in the way of a road. The lower they marched, the higher and more imposing the Stronghold and its fortified town appeared.
As they rounded the second-to-last bend, Piro caught a glimpse of a bridge over a frozen stream. The bridge was only wide enough for a cart, but sturdy. The spring melt would make the stream a raging torrent.
The bridge was lost to sight as they made the last turn. Then they faced it and the entrance to the town's gate. Piro heard Unace's unconscious sigh of relief, for the people had seen their old warlord's daughter approaching and made up their minds.
The gates were open.
Anxious but hopeful faces lined the streets.
The unistag gave a nervous snort. Piro soothed it with a touch and they crossed the bridge. There was no cheering.
One voice called, 'Welcome home, Lady Unace.'
'Welcome me after I've rid my stronghold of vermin!'
There was laughter and several cheers. The healer began to sing and Piro joined him in the unistag song of praise again. Soon a full choir of voices carried the tune as they wove up the steep main road to the Stronghold gates.
Piro craned her head up and, in a gap between the teetering second storeys of houses, she saw the tall stone battlements of the stronghold. It still did not compare to Rolenhold — too many wooden protrusions — but it was an amazing sight. Several heads watched them from the crenellations, but there was no way to tell if they were Steerden's supporters.
'Can you tell if the stronghold had been retaken?' Piro asked.
'What news from the stronghold?' Unace called to the crowd as they rode by.
A man ran up to walk at her side. 'No news, Warlord Unace. There was shouting and fighting last night. But none of us dared approach.'
Piro didn't blame him as he fell back.
'Not far now,' Unace muttered. 'We'll know soon enough.'
Piro licked dry lips.
They rounded the bend to see the stronghold's portcullis being raised. The ropes creaked on the winches. A dark tunnel no deeper than a cart's length stretched before them, ideal for pouring hot oil and flaming torches on an enemy. And beyond that was the first courtyard, the killing ground. If this place was anything like Rolenhold it would have numerous slits in the buildings for archers to fire down on the invaders. But a clever invader could form a tortoise by wedging their shields together and proceed under cover.
At the sight of the opening portcullis, a cheer broke from the ranks of their supporters.
Piro's heart lifted.
'Let's go,' Unace urged, but the unistag balked.
Piro touched his muzzle, letting him sense the build-up of her Affinity, yet holding back so that he would follow her. Seagrass caught her eye, giving a small nod of approval.
Entering the dark tunnel made Piro shiver. She fixed on the paved courtyard, swept free of snow. They were so close to victory. Byren's ploy had worked. She was proud of him and proud to be here with Lady Unace.
The courtyard was empty.
Unace urged the unistag into the centre, twisting from the waist to look around.
'Where is everyone?' she muttered, then raised her voice. 'I'm Lady Unace, daughter of warlord Uniden and I claim this castle in my own right!'
Her people cheered.
Still no one appeared.
'Open the doors to the great hall so we may celebrate!' Unace swung her leg over the unistag's back and dropped to the ground lightly. She strode towards some steps.
'No!' Seagrass leapt forwards, shoving Unace in the back so that she sprawled on her hands and knees on the bottom step.
The arrow caught the healer in the hump. A murmur of horror and cries of protest filled the courtyard.
'Seagrass?' Unace scrambled to him as he collapsed, gathering him in her arms.
Piro was close enough to hear him whisper, '…knew it was too easy.'
Then the doors of the great hall swung open and a man swaggered down the steps, flanked and followed by heavily armed men. He carried the symbol of Unistag Spar, a white unistag horn set on top of a staff.
'Steerden!' Unace swore under her breath. Releasing the monk, she sprang to her feet. 'Kin-slayer!'
'Warlord Steerden!' he corrected. Then he used the unistag-horned staff to gesture to the walls which overlooked the courtyard. 'I have two dozen of my best archers in position. You are dead where you stand. All of you.'
Piro glanced behind her. There was nowhere to run. No way to get back to save Unace's infant son.
It wasn't supposed to end this way.
This wasn't a fireside song. There were no guarantees. And she was powerless to help herself, let alone anyone else, as blood seeped from under the healer's torso, dripping down the steps.
The unistag reared, startled by the smell of blood and the sudden rise in fear which emanated from those around them. Piro could feel it too. She caught his neck and soothed him, concentrating on her hands, so that the overflow of her Affinity came through her skin, calming him as she stroked his muzzle.
'But first I must have that unistag,' warlord Steerden announced. 'Then everyone will know that the gods favour my rule.'
What manner of man could murder his own kin, many of them children? Piro stared at Steerden, trying to understand. A strange buzzing filled her head. The world shifted.
Her knees went weak and she had to lean into the unistag to keep her balance. Nausea roiled in her stomach as her vision blurred.
Feeling strangely detached, she realised she was seeing the Unseen World. When she looked at Seagrass, kneeling on the ground, a warmth pulsed from him, brightest where he bled. The same warmth pulsed from the unistag, glowing around her hands.